Blood on the Rocks: Shaken, not Stirred
by Riley Killer
Summary: Hunters have found their numbers being rapidly reduced since Vampires came out of the Coffin. It's only a matter of time before they're extinct. But, when the job is your life, can you simply turn away from it? A certain blonde vampire may have a hand in causing a rather unfortunate Hunter to do just that. But, no worries, neither are happy about it. [Rewrite of Blood on the Rocks]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Buenos Dias mi Amigos y amigas. Hello from a blast from the past. Recently, I've gone through my old fanfics and began to work through what can stay, what needs to be archived, and what has a lot of potential. Thus my total of 26 stories has been reduced to five, and that which stays is getting work. 'Blood on the Rocks,' was one of those that I read and went, 'has a lot of potential, but needs a complete rewrite.' Thus, here we are! I hope you enjoy the journey as I set it up, and I got a lovely plan for this one as time goes on.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own True Blood, nor any of the characters affiliated with True Blood. I naturally own the original characters that are not affiliated with True Blood, and are presented in this story.

 **Ginger Snap and Cinnamon Twist**

The sound of glasses clinking, idle chatter, laughter, and the Broncos vs. the Eagles football game rang through the air as two figures lingered at a sports bar called 'The Sports Column' in downtown Denver. The single beer against the first's lips long since had gone flat, and dark blue eyes in her sip traveled idly to the lean red head with curly, copper-colored hair that leaned against the bar top, her ruby lips pursed idly on a lollipop while she sucked it, the stick poking out from her mouth. Donning the red head's form were black skinny jeans with a form-fitting white long sleeve, and a puffy blue vest that fit snuggly. The first woman reached back and flicked back her own brown hair over her shoulder as she sat up straight from her hunch.

With a swallow, the hand she held the beer with would now idly point to the red head, "So, Laur, the new tattoo…" A light southern drawl in her voice lingered within her prompting.

"I thought it was fittin'." 'Laur' stated simply, a Texan twang coating her lips, her shoulders raising and falling idly, "That and you know- supposedly there are some protective warding to it. At least, the lady that did it said so." The bartender behind the counter approached and both paused to look at him, a martini glass with yellow-tinted liquid was placed on a napkin, black sugar brimming the top. Once deposited, he turned away and left them to it. Laurie's delicate, freckled hand moved over to pick it up by the stem before she'd take a sip after yanking the lollipop from her mouth. Her green-eyed gaze turned back to the brunette, "Is there a problem with it, Trace?"

Her compatriot looked away to stare up at the cabinets that hung over the bar, a small frown pulling as her lips. Giving a pregnant pause as she scrunched her nose, Tracie ignored as Laurie soon laced her with a skeptical glare and a quirked coppery brow. The brunette couldn't keep composure for long, and a crooked grin cracked her face as she gave in to a soft chuckle at her now slightly irked partner.

"What?" Laurie prodded with a glower, her bottom lip poking out in a pout, black sugar on it from the glass "…be straight with me. I hate when you leave me with nothing." Her pink tongue darted out to clean her lip off as she set the drink down.

"I never took you as a Supernatural fan, that's all. So I was surprised by it." The older woman laughed, turning on her seat to fully face Laurie and setting her bottle down, she crossed her arms over her black turtle neck, her own form holding a pair of jeans that were accompanied by tightly laced hiking boots. A brown belt strapped around her hips, and a black backpack laid low on the floor. "Look at you though, getting all tatted up."

"Oh ha ha." Laurie would mutter sarcastically, before Tracie shook her head and drug her hand up and through her own hair.

Intrigued, she looked to the white gauze that rested on her partner's healing collar from said tattoo. Studying it, she'd state simply, "We'll have to stock up before you go tackling any demons though." The chuckle faintly in her voice, Laurie flushed and then looked a tad flustered.

"Don't tease me, you'd get it too if-"

"Eh- demons may be sexy, let's be honest here." Tracie stated cutting the line of thought off, "What's his face- Crowley- he seemed like he may be wild in the sheets."

"No, definitely Dean." Laurie shot back, then grasped up her drink to take another long swallow of it, soon setting it back down, she'd turn her back from the rest of the bar to lean on the counter top with her elbows. She'd look back at the tan skinned woman. "Dean would be the best lay, he's known for it throughout the entire series- or at least he's the most active."

"Yes. But Dean," Tracie began, "Has the most shared dick. Likely not in our favor, Girlfriend."

A soft chuckle left Laurie Patrons at that. The two took in sync gulps from their drinks.

"So." Tracie would begin, slapping down a 10-dollar bill for the beer and tip, "Is it healing well at least?"

"Yeah, it's not peeling or itchy yet, and unlike the gnarly skull on your back- it's easy to reach to lotion up and take care of." Laurie noted and teased, drink still in hand. Tracie could only give another chuckle; the two partners falling into silence as Laurie finished off her martini. Soon however, the ginger would give a soft sigh. "So…" she would mimic Tracie's frown and turn her eyes down towards the floor, "about the excess cargo in the trunk. We naturally can't have it there when we take the car back to the rental company."

"Hmmm." The older of the two looked up to the ceiling as she'd turn towards the crowd and lean back against the bar, gaze flicking to the many faces that were glued to one of the many big screens in the 'Column. Reaching up and scratching at her jaw, she'd state, "We'll make sure it's taken care of appropriately before we head back. After all, we can't miss the plane out." Laurie gave a nod in agreement. Setting down a 20-dollar bill, she would grab her purse from the bar. Tracie would swoop down as she hopped off her bar stool to grab her own backpack off the floor and swing it expertly onto her back.

At her full height, the height difference between the two was apparent. Tracie was far stockier and curvier than Laurie's own tall, yet tight form. The two women politely bid the bartender good night before they began their way out. Once in the cool, mile-high city air however, Laurie, who couldn't' stay silent long, would pipe up again, "Think we can get ice teas once back in Shreveport? I could kill for some good ice tea."

Tracie simply shook her head as yank a hairband off her wrist, place it in her mouth, then begin to pull her hair back before tying it up with the band in a pony tail. "All that sugar is going to kill you, or at least give you cavities."

"Shut up Adams, you know you want it." Laurie would mutter, her hand coming out and the back of it playfully smacking her cohort on the arm, a smirk playing at her lips.

"Yeah Laurie, like a holes in the neck."

* * *

Sometime later, under the cover of trees and with only the full moon as the other witness, a screaming curse ripped through the air, followed by a gunshot. A lit cigarette sat idly in Tracie's mouth as she stared up at the star lit sky while she waited in the Foothill Mountains that lay right before the Rockies. Her arms once again crossed over her chest, and her stance wide to keep her firmly balanced. The soft grunting of her partner now maneuvering a dead man's corpse falling to a background noise as the murderous werewolf they had picked up in Amarillo, Texas was put to rest. The soon, soft crinkling of plastic also informed her that the tarp they had picked up from Home Depot that morning was also being put to its intended use. The older woman gave a smoky sigh, watching as the smoke twirled up into the air and danced entertainingly in the full moon's light.

With her partner at work, Tracie's mind quietly turned to Laurie Patrons, thinking about her partner and here position as werewolf, were-panther, and were-'anything you could think of under the sun,' specialist. There after all was no denying, Laurie did good work. She was as skilled as any hunter or trapper in tracking, locating, and crossing out their intended targets.

Granted, when they were younger, they had been apprehensive and butted heads like nothing else- after all, most hunters were prideful and if they were still alive, had good standing on 'who was the best,' but after a few years of sitting side saddle to the other, many bloody fist fights and a few drunken brawls from that one bloody scene that was just 'too much to handle,' rivalries had turned into cohesiveness, and left behind a rather nice, iron-clad partnership.

Given their choices of hunting partners getting slimmer by the day since the Great Revelation, Tracie could not deny she had become very thankful for Laurie's other-field skills and over-all sassy presence. Not to mention, Tracie could barely stand tracking down Weres…

The brunette turned on her heels, breaking from her thoughts as she marched past the car. A blue Hyundai Accent, specifically picked for its wide trunk space. Once she arrived where her partner had wandered off too, she dropped her arms from their cross as she watched the woman try to wrap the body of a now, very much dead, fully-grown man with a plastic tarp. A roll of gorilla tape down at her feet.

"Need a hand, Pat?"

"If you don't mind, M'adams."

Tracie's nose scrunched at the nickname but she shrugged, moving forward to assist. Wandering to his legs, she'd wait for Laurie to flip him one more time, fully wrapping him in the bloodied tarp, before Tracie then grasped the gorilla tape from the ground. Silently, she'd begin to wrap his legs at the ankles.

"So I think we should take him down by the river, weigh him down, and then let him sink." Laurie suggested, as she'd lift the thighs to be bound next. Tracie's lips pursed as she continued binding the corpse next at the knees, but listened on. "Leave him open at the top for the fish." The crack of tape being ripped from the roll with each little length necessary to bind the poor bastard in plastic took to the air, as Laurie's partner remained silent.

Once they nearly finished encasing the dead were though, the brunette would finally look up from her work. "Well," She'd begin, "that, or we cover him in gasoline and find a nice secluded area to burn him up. That or the closest dump, he could probably be buried nicely in garbage- but someone will find him eventually. Unless we throw him in a compactor."

Laurie shook her head at that, no, that wouldn't work. Next, she would prompt, "Mmmaybe a morgue? There was a morgue close by, wasn't there? Swore we passed one on the way here." Laurie grasped her chin pensively. "Might just be the key thing we need."

As Tracie dropped the head back down to the ground once the last bit of plastic was sealed over it, she'd lick her lips and then give a nod. "Sure. Why not the morgue? I could call Rabbit and get a new profile for him in their system. We'd have a limited window, as he'd need to wipe the video feeds of us bringing our friend here, in, and cleaning him off, aaand we'd owe him for it."

"Well, what kind of payment would he take?" Laurie questioned with a wary glance up towards the moon. Tracie reached below the corpse and slowly began to lift it. With a groan, the smaller woman hefted it up and folded it over her shoulder. With a tilt to her body, she'd began to head back towards the car.

"What else do older, lonely, techie brothers take?" Tracie grumbled, "Probably a date with you or at least like, your underwear." Laurie grimaced and Tracie shrugged, "Hey. Better than watching the compactor get botched up with blood and flesh again, and draw an entire crowd of irritated sanitation works." The thought of it made Tracie also grimace. That had caused them some mighty fine problems with the Were community in Alabama, last time one they had dumped one too many bodies. The evasion and escape had been a massive headache.

As though she sensed the discontent, Laurie jabbed, "Why can't Vampires have bodies once you smoke them?" Shaking her head and placing her hands on her hips as they made it back to the car, she'd continue, "Why explode and become giant mush puddles? It's gross as hell."

Her shorter counterpart gave a nearly bored shrug that jostled the corpse folded over her shoulder. Reaching to the back of the car, Laurie would pop open the trunk for Tracie to shove the corpse back in as the shorter would mutter darkly, "Because that would save on the dry-cleaning, lemon juice, and over all new dye job that is needed after they vomit up blood and explode _everywhere_." She'd then pull the half-burned cigarette from her mouth to ash it appropriately, turning her head politely away to blow out the smoke.

Laurie would sigh and then shrug, shaking her head. The red head reached in and past the corpse to grasp up a large bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a separate one of bleach before she'd turn on her heel and head back to her kill location. Calling over her shoulder, she'd comment, "A real shame honestly, you used to look really good in white! Innocent even! Like, right fang-bait." Tracie reached up for the trunk of the car and snapped it shut with a sigh before she resumed her position of standing with her arms crossed and looking on. This time however, she leaned a hip against the side of the car and blew a smoky breath out from her nostrils. As the slosh of liquid scored the air, she'd simply cast a gaze back up to the full moon.

"Yes well." She'd reason lowly, "How _else_ are you supposed to lure the psycho ones out?"

"What was that?" Laurie called back over, not quite hearing her. Getting no answer, she'd grumble quietly to herself and frown. Once she finished cleaning the area though, by absolutely destroying the environment, she swiftly walked back and pulled the cigarette from Tracie's mouth with snake-like speed.

"Hey!"

"Shhhh." She'd mutter, and then turn and flick it into a bush.

Tracie watched as a small glow began within the fauna not seconds later, before grimacing once more. "Yeah, great… let's add arson to killing werewolves." She'd reason. If she wasn't careful, the grimace could become a permanent feature in her face. "You tryin' to start a wild fire there, Laur?"

"Yep!" Laurie would state cheerfully, before she'd throw the now empty bottles into the back of the car. They landed right next to their packed duffels and luggage. "Now- let's go ditch the bastard's body. We still got our flight to make."

"Yeah, yeah…" Tracie began, "Don't remind me." A long breath would follow, "…It'll be good to head back home though."

"Says you." It was Laurie's turn to grimace as she'd reach up with clean hands and take fistfuls of her curly hair in emphasis, "I'm not looking forward to what Louisiana humidity will do to my hair."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** And here we are with another chapter, enjoy!

* * *

 **Television** **Evangelist and Fanged MVPs**

* * *

The dying rays of sunlight, the soft sound of a fan whirling and its accompaniment of a low hum of an air conditioner was what raised Tracie to consciousness. Her body was sore and her throat dry, the air conditioner having done too well in keeping the humidity out. The blue eyes of the woman opened blearily, and reluctantly as she stared up at the white spackle that colored the ceiling. A groan pulled from her as her head felt like it was in a haze. Purple sheets and a white comforter laid twisted at her shorts covered bottom and legs. The light hit her eyes and she hissed with a wincing glare. Shutting them, she tried to drift back off to sleep, struggling with it as anxious thoughts invaded her mind, and resulted in the failure of her return to the Sandman's domain.

Reluctantly giving in now to waking up, she'd reach over with a grumble and drag a black-shell covered laptop towards her from its' previous spot of lying on the corner of the bed she didn't occupy. The room she sat up in modest and bare. The walls themselves painted white, much like the ceiling. The closet held sliding mirror-doors to the right of the bed, standing opposite from the window. It was closed, reflecting back Tracie's sleepy persona. A wall-unit air conditioner sat high above her head over the bed, and there was a fan in the center of the ceiling with a light. It contented itself with continuing to move hypnotically round and round.

There were no photographs, or art on the walls. In fact, the single window in the room was likely the most decorative thing in the place, which was saying something considering it was just an ordinary, single-pane window. Hanging above it was a bronze rod across the top sill and light purple lace curtains that hung down and currently were just barely closed. A mistake she had made in her earlier sleepy entrance during the wee hours of the morning; one that she was now paying for.

Thus, with the blinding twilight that was hitting her squarely in the eyes, she rolled to put her back to it, and mentally noted that strong blackout curtains or shades may be more preferable in the future. Soon though, the thought was pushed aside and she opened up the laptop with a clumsy, heavy hand to boot it up and log on to her account.

Seconds later, she stared at her bank account page and let out a sigh of relief. The payment for the job had already come in, processed likely in her unconsciousness throughout the day. With that relief in mind quieting her nervous thoughts, she logged off and shut the laptop once more. The sound of dishes clattering against each other, an unmistakable sound of ceramic on ceramic, notified her that Laurie was also up and moving, and likely had been.

Slowly waking up, Tracie remembered now that they owed the 'Rabbit' big time after Laurie had bumped a cart to move cadavers, and it had promptly went rolling off only to smack right into the facility's preservation and embalming equipment and fluids.

Though the trip had been blurred by a controlled panic to get the hell out of Colorado after that, and it hadn't quite calmed down until they got to the house early in the AM, she could recall the hasty clean up, and in turn wipe down of the equipment, plus the quick typing and creation of a new profile for their previous target.

That screw up had nearly made them miss their flight out.

As she rolled to her back, dying twilight now bearable, she also recalled the reaming they'd experienced over speakerphone on the drive to the airport by Rabbit, for their _sloppy_ disposal job.

Despite however, the two women had made it home safe and sound to their assigned base of operations in Shreveport, Louisiana. Mission accomplished, and murderous werewolf (and a few other things that went bump in the night to get to Amarillo to begin with), vanquished.

A good job, all things considered, in the life of a Hunter; but definitely not the kind you talked about in pleasant conversations or dinner parties… at least, not the kind one had with the casual folks and normal populaces provided in Shreveport. Thankfully though- Tracie was out of sorts and usually avoided associating with both.

Waking up bit by bit, she finally moved to get out of bed, nearly falling out of it as the blankets gripped at her ankles. Getting loose, the 5' 8" woman gave a soft grumble before stumbling out of her room all together. Cut off t-shirt showing her navel and basketball shorts hanging from her hips. Despite the easy clothing, as soon as she exited the room, her face immediately gained an uncomfortable grimace.

They'd come back to find out the central air had been knocked out while they were gone, and so only the wall units in the bedrooms worked. Thus, uncomfortable heat and humidity was sinking down upon her as soon as she exited her icebox oasis of a room, the salty beginnings of sweat droplets and a desperate need for a shower soon blooming into reality. Running a hand through the oily, damp mess that her hair had become from sleeping all-day anyways, she began to make her way towards the stairwell to go downstairs.

Laurie's voice called up faintly from it however as her footsteps were none too silent, "Coffee?"

With a husky, and raspy voice, the brunette would choke out, "Please." Getting down the steps with stiff legs and lead feet was it's own endeavor, but she managed to reach the final step without having to have too much of a death grip on the railing. A mug was put in front of her face once she did as Laurie stood before her, barefoot and in a lovely pink lotus pattern silk kimono-style robe. The faint scent of lemon said the red head had been cleaning. A nice, wide smirk on her face as she observed her partner in crime. With shaky hands akin to that of a junkie though, Tracie took the mug in her hands and relaxed as the scent of the bitter brew hit her nose and warmth from the cup spread through her fingertips. Giving it a testing sip, she paused and nodded in approval, before taking a large gulp.

Laurie watched on, amused. Her curly hair pulled up and away from her neck. Fresh dishes sat on the drying rack in the sink behind her, informing Tracie that she had just cleaned up from eating dinner as well. The brunette's eyes glazed as she fell back into thought.

The old, brick two-story with basement, two-bedroom and full bath, riverside-house when they had 'moved in' (been assigned), had never been equipped with a dishwasher. Frankly, neither of them had bothered to think to buy one in the four or so years they had been in it together either. It was an unspoken consensus, as in an odd way, washing dishes and the chores to upkeep the hunter's home was a rare comfort, and a brief breath of normality in their rather strange, and somewhat violent lives.

"Ya know." Laurie would finally pipe up, pulling Tracie from her recollections, tone playful and teasing as the red-head eyeballed her colleague incredulously, "Just cause you hunt them, doesn't mean you need to sleep like them. Nearly half a decade and I am STILL surprised that after six generations of hunting, you lot have remained inclined to screw up an entire sleeping schedule just to-"

"If they don't come out durin' the day, what's the point in being awake and working during it?" Croaked Tracie, she'd give a sleepy glare to the red head, before whining, "I'd be tired when it's time to go out… Now please Laur, let me have my coffee."

Laurie gave a hapless shrug and a chuckle "Could just join modern society and not live in the dark ages, Adams." Her fluid stride would move her towards the living room that sat beside the rather large kitchen, she'd settle down on the plush white couch they'd sprung for a year back, they'd frankly grown tired of the lumps it's predecessor had gained from the many butts and other things that had been in it over the years. Crossing her long legs at the ankles and kicking them up onto the the wooden coffee table between the couch and the box TV, she'd pick up the remote.

Tracie shuffled over, hunched around her mug as though she coveted it much like Gollum and the One Ring, before she settled down in the corner between Laurie and the arm of the couch. The redhead looked over at her, "You get another stain on the couch an' I'll whoop ya, Trace." While crossing her arms with a scathing glower. Down by her thigh no less, was one of many off white pigment patches. Remnants from an ever continuing war waged by the curled up coffee drinker who never quite figured out elegance, and sometimes balance when off-hours, like her red-headed partner in crime.

Tracie remained unaffected by the stare though as she muttered into her mug, about to take a sip, "You ain't won a fight against me yet, woman. That ain't going to change just cause I'm still waking' up." A long breath followed from her nose as she'd take a slow gulp and then set the mug down on the coffee table- nodding to the TV as something caught her eye, "Turn it up."

Laurie obliged.

"… _and that's why we believe vampires should have the equal rights to humans! There are so many similarities between the species that…"_

Laurie bothered to give her attention to the television now as some blonde woman was in a heated debate with a balding man. Studying it for a few moments, she'd look back to Tracie, "Isn't that the AVL's Public Rep? Your Number One?"

"Mhm, Nan Flanagan." Tracie looked on a bit more alert now; presence of the job usually did that for her. Grasping her mug up, despite just putting it down to take a hearty gulp, she'd continue, "Number one pain in the ass alright. She's usually touting off the vampire's equal rights agenda or fighting with those fellas in the Fellowship of the Light. Thankfully that keeps her from investigating too hard on our end… but she's big enough to have others do that for her now. Being 'the face' and all." Laurie looked away from Tracie to look back at the screen as the brunette elder hunter murmured, "I once ended up in the same room as her. You know they say Vampires can smell when you wrong one of e'm? We don't quite give off that scent though."

"That can't be right, it's one of the more specific reasons we Patrons don't specialize in vampires anymore…" Laurie's skepticism in tone would make Tracie take a deeper gulp and then pull the mug from her face. "Also you don't have that problem with Weres. 'Cept when it's a clan. Thankfully the murderous types have a tendency to stay loners most of the time though- avoids the problem all together."

"Lucky you- vampires get more violent if they're in a nest and it's a right pain in the ass." Tracie grunted, "Particularly if you add in the taboo things they don't share with humans." She'd pause though to think on the first part of their conversation, and loop back around, "It's true though, the scent thing." She would insist bluntly, now looking away from the screen to Laurie. "I was scoping a red carpet event in New Orleans, watching her guest-speak at an Anne Rice movie when they were still looking for any shot at good publicity. You know, right before they popped out of the Coffin?" She'd shrug and then sip of her coffee and sigh out, "I wasn't new though and had already done the deed plenty'o'times."

In fact, if she recalled, she had just finished cleaning herself up right before she got the order to attend the event since it had been close by, the fortunate, and yet inconvenient thing of living right outside of a vampire mecca. "Yet I walked around, and out alright with no problem… Rabbit says it's due to our bloodlines, the Adams I mean. We adapted after the years to not give off the scent- and that he says is the reason we hunters are so damned hard to find these days and why the family thrived as vampire specialists." Grimacing she'd look back to the screen, "I'd just like to think that it's us growing smarter over the years and putting on perfume or something."

"Lucky you, the best we got to was our hearing and smelling." Laurie'd look away from the screen and back now to Tracie, leaning back and propping an elbow onto the back of the couch and soon dropping her feet. She crossed a leg over her knee and kicked it gently, "Easy to track an Adams down." She'd tease to her. A crooked grin would appear in Tracie's lips.

"Maybe… but we worked on the other stuff- after all. Silver bullets hurt, but don't kill ours." A pensive silence fell between the two as they watched the pretty blonde-haired vampire argue back an forth with the black haired preacher, Steve Newlin- neither saying much for a bit before Tracie finally asked the question that they often came to in the quiet moments where the adrenaline wasn't and the threat of casualness, or reluctant contentment set in. "You ever regret it? Or think you could do something else? Leave this behind?"

"You ask that every time we're home." Laurie grumbled, arms moving up helplessly. Tracie shrugged and stuck her lower lip out in a 'eh, so I do' expression. Laurie crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch, she inhaled, puffed up her cheeks, and then sighed, "…I mean, it's our _lives_ Tracie, what else would we do? We know what's out there, and the families have been doing this for hundreds of years. It's in our blood, our raising, our families, no one's walked away, and part of it is because no one can stand by and simply live in ignorance. We always go looking for trouble, we just also figured out how to make bank on it."

"I don't think we'd have too now- kill so much I mean, not the Adams anyways. The vampires are here. Trouble showed up. The ancient battle we always hear about in the movies is over." Tracie would comment as she'd gesture to the T.V., "Humanity found out. There is no extermination of the thing that sucks blood, and there is no walking' away from the fact they came right out that coffin and said, 'what's up world, what's for dinner!' I mean…" She'd roll her eyes away and lose her sentence as she grasped for words, "Killin' a vampire is basically murder now- not that it wasn't before but I mean- it's not an act of protecting humanity; not unless you're some delusional religious zealot." She'd gesture to the T.V. as Steve Newlin continued to speak.

Laurie contemplated over her partner's words for a few moments, then laid her head back and asked simply, "Don't you lot steal from their freight trains though?" Another shrug left Tracie, she couldn't help what the family did to keep supplies going, "Fine, well let me ask this, would you be able to stand by though if you found a vampire murdering someone as those in the nest are wont to do? Those that only see Humans as slaves and purposes of serving them, so like most vampires?" She'd roll her head over to look Tracie dead in the eye as the shorter, but elder woman gently rotated the coffee mug between her hands, "Or would you stake the sonuvagun and continue on your way?"

"…Well I'd stake them, of course. But, there's nothing to say no normal person wouldn't. Shoot, I'd think it's human nature if you saw someone getting offed to interfere." Tracie asserted. Laurie gave her own smug grin.

"And that's cause you're an Adams. Normal people would call the police. We're good at what we do and we're meant to do what we do. Ain't no point in regretting that." She'd shrug, "Just like there ain't a point in regretting what you are."

Tracie buried in her face in her mug to think about that. As they lulled back into the quiet of the news report wrapping up, she'd come back up though as she finished it off. "Gym." She'd state finally, and Laurie'd furrow her brows.

"What the hell are you goin' on…"

Tracie would give another confident nod, "I could teach gym. Think on it. We'd be amazing gym teachers- or personal trainers. Think of the slogan. "You'll be able to stab, wrestle, or kill anyone you want in a 12-weeks or less." With a dead serious face, Tracie would not give away her joking until Laurie would finally breakdown to giggles. Only then would the elder woman give a comforting, humorous grin of her own, soon falling into laughter herself.

As the two came to an at last uninterrupted, contentment-filled silence, the news changed over to the night's forecast- a high likelihood of thunderstorms. Tracie got up from the couch and picked up her mug, a slow exhale leaving her as she fell into thought over the conversation they just had before she'd stretch from her toes to her fingertips. A low groan leaving her in exertion, she'd soon drop her hands from above her head due to the stretch, and glance down at the mug she still kept in a claw-like grip. "I think I'll go scope tonight." Laurie changed the channel to Jimmy Kimmel's Live! And remained on the couch as she'd make her way to the sink, "It'd be good to get reacquainted with the common faces."

"So the vamp bar then?" It was bored and idle, before Tracie would give a shrug and a nod; Laurie looked away from the side glance she had graced Tracie with, "Wouldn't it be better if you just went to a normal bar? We just got back. Bit too soon to be looking for trouble."

The brunette's back remained to her as Tracie went about cleaning out her mug and the coffee grinds with in, "Where would you suggest? The night clubs here in Shreveport?" Washcloth in hand, she would rotate it on the mug while a soft pensive sigh would leave the ginger.

"Maybe you should go to Bon Temps, it'd be a nice drive for you. Remember what you said before we left, that they just got a new vampire themselves? Could be good to get acquainted with something small-time before you go waltzing into 'Fangs-R-Us.'Plus it's only what, 20 miles or so?"

Tracie grimaced at the thought. She rarely visited Bon Temps to begin with, "Backwoods aren't really my thing…"

"Bullshit." Laurie grunted bluntly, she'd look over at Tracie's back, "Half the weres we were killin' were in the backwoods. Half the vampires you staked were hiding in the backwoods and lying low. We do backwoods plenty."

"But the bars are…" What was the word, fun? Loud? Excitable? Tracie struggled for the correct adjective for a bit before shaking her head, "I'll do Bon Temps another night. But for now- let's do something a bit closer to home." With a conversation-ending shrug, she'd surmise, "I need to reacquaint myself to my territory."

"I suppose." Laurie would yawn out, turning off the television and slowly getting to her feet, a signal she was readying to go to sleep, "But you call me if you get in trouble." Before she'd turn to leave, she'd pause and tap her lip. Soon she'd shake a finger however at Tracie, the brunette eyeballing her over her shoulder, "But you're sounding a bit like a vampire yourself when you talk like that, Trace. Try and find yourself a nice human boyfriend while you're out, huh? You're too stiff and study all the time. It's gonna burn you out and our morale is going to get pretty bad if you're cranky cause you haven't gotten laid, or worse yet, you're overworked."

A chuckle lilted Tracie's voice as she looked back ahead and put the mug on the drying rack, this was a common concern, thus she gave it an equally common answer, "Don't worry at all about that Laurie. I'll figure a way to blow off steam and be right as rain for the next time we're asked to go swing our bats." She'd shrug, "Who knows, maybe there will be a little fang banger available for when I get there."

Laurie blanched, "Yeah… on second thought, please don't bring any vampire hookers home."

"You mean hookers that _are_ vampires, or hookers that work for vampires?"

"….I'm going to bed before I throw something at you."

Tracie was happy she still had her back to Laurie as the ginger made her way upstairs, otherwise her partner would see her wide, amused grin.

...It would be about two hours before Tracie left the house, showered and far better smelling than when she'd woken up.

She had chosen the casual look for the vampire bar, "Fangtasia," the local hotspot for vampires, humans that wanted to have sex or be bit by vampires (fang bangers), and tourists. A pair of heeled cowboy boots she'd picked up in Texas, thankfully broken in, accompanied by form-fitting black denim jeans with the knees ripped, a black t-shirt from some heavy metal band (she thought maybe german), and stereotypical gothic makeup: black lipstick, heavy dark eye shadow and liner for enthusiastic smoky eyes, black nail polish, skull earrings, and the customary, but very plain black leather choker, no spikes included.

One would think she bought it from some bargain bin website online, like Wish, but the true origins were: PetSmart. Laurie hadn't let her live down the 'bitch' and dog collar jokes the entire drive to their assignment after that, but Tracie argued tooth and nail, much to her younger partner's amusement, that the quality leather always came from the pet stores that designed it for wear and tear. Not to mention if she wanted something 'dainty,' she had a thinner collar on standby.

Not to mention, the goal was the appearance of someone who hadn't quite gotten the hang of coming to the vampire bars, but was perhaps still trying it out as something new.

She drove to Fangtasia rather than taking a cab. It was a bit wiser than appearing unattached. After all; who argued with a good, ol' fashioned grey 2008 Toyota 4Runner. It was still humbly working, but definitely sounded likely it would need to be replaced within the next few years. Over all however, low profile, and forgettable. It made life a little more comfortable, and showing up to scope the grounds all too easy.

The crunch of gravel, along with a now full stomach and coffee brought her back to focus and grips as she stepped out of her vehicle. The gothed out woman looking on to see that it looked like a packed house tonight. Hell, there was even a 'vampire hotspots of America' tourbus that had rolled in. It honestly made coming to scope all to easy. The vampires likely would behave themselves, and the people would be plentiful she could blend. Pulling a black clutch from her car before she shut the door and locked it up, she approached the line in and the bouncer at the door. Things were moving quick, so it wouldn't be long before she'd be in front of a beautiful, curvy woman with long brown hair. Tracie kept a faint smile on her face as the woman stared back at her, wearing the dark attire one would expect for these sorts of places. A black lacked corset, pumps with a stiletto heel that could kill, and a tight, it looked almost like latex, skirt.

"I.D." She prompted, and Tracie fished in her clutch immediately, eager smile still in place. Quickly, she handed over the one she always kept for these sorts of occasions. It wouldn't do to drop the Hunters Sirname in fanged company, after all. There was no telling how old some of the folks in here were going to be...

The woman known as Pam, though Tracie did not realize it at the time, took it and began to stare at it. Her expression flat and bored. Soon she handed it back though, and flicked her hand over her shoulder, "Enjoy, honey. " Looking her up and down, she'd purr, showing her fangs, "You try to stay out of trouble, now."

"Yes Miss, I will."And with that, Tracie moved smoothly by her, smile disappearing and face smoothing to concentrated determination as she disappeared into the depths of Fangtasia.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you to those who have read the story so far! And I can't wait to hear what you think of this one. As I mentioned in the first chapter, I have a good idea of where this is going and to get it there, I felt we needed to introduce a few elements first. I'll try not to make it too slow of a build, but feel free to let me know your thoughts on it as we go! I'll see you next chapter!

 **ZurEnAarh:** I'm happy you enjoy the angle of the story! I always find the vampire hunter's interaction interesting with their targets, and in turn figure it's a bit more difficult to get a grasp on what their lives are at. It's challenging and it makes me happy to write! I can't promise they're modeled off of Sam and Dean though, as the basis of their relationship comes from my best friend's and I's relationship growing up. But you will DEFINITELY see elements of supernatural come into play, so I hope you continue to enjoy the story!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** And here we are for a third installment. I had a lot of fun writing this one. For those that don't recall the character Tarin, the vampire in question was the female vampire in the first season that drags away some poor bald bastard to go suck his blood on Sookie's first visit to Fangtasia. In this chapter, we see a comeback from the female vamp with some assumed ideas of what occurred to her after that moment. I hope you enjoy the twists, so without further delay, happy reading!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own True Blood, nor any of the characters affiliated with True Blood. I naturally own the original characters that are not affiliated with True Blood, and are presented in this story.

* * *

 **Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

* * *

Fangtasia was like a gothic-novel wonderland with industrial music and occasionally Marilyn Manson's cover of 'Sweet Dreams.' The walls were red and black; as though you walked right into an Anne Rice Novel, and there were singles tables and booths that hung on the outside perimeter of the main dance floor room. Occasional platforms where the inhuman and the brave danced erected throughout.

A singular gift shop booth was wedged in the corner that read across the top of it, 'I survived Fangtasia. Moving across the floor were humans in black, or capes and occasional fake fangs- commingling and laughing while others of the less living persuasion spoke quietly amongst themselves, or not at all. Watching as those with a heartbeat moved past them in thoughtful consideration.

A single, broad-shouldered, blonde haired man, his hair cut short and swept back as though he belonged on the cover of Forbes Magazine, sat on a throne towards the opposite corner of the room. His mere presence demanded the attention of any who walked in. Occasionally he could be seen to look across certain individuals as he pleased; and otherwise was left undisturbed; at least from what Tracie saw when she originally walked in. Him to her far left, and a full black bar to her right, gave her quick choices of where she was headed. As she approached the bar, she noted a man of the Asian persuasion attended it; he wore a leather vest, which displayed the tattoos the Yakuza were often noted for on his left arm. Like most vampires, he in his own way was seductive in appearance, but had he a stiffness about him that she couldn't quite place.

The tourists from the bus outside she could also see from the corner of her eye amongst the crowd. The logos of the tour on the breast pockets of their polos. They too wore black from head to foot. At the head of them, at least she assumed the head of them, judging by the way his polo said 'Guide,' in neon bright pink across the back, was a tall, broad man with sandy blonde hair. It was cut in military fashion, and his tan skin stuck out amongst the pale crowd. As did his stubble and sharp blue eyes.

 _Well, aren't we attractive…_ Laurie had told her to pick up a boyfriend… but as their gazes met briefly and he quirked a disinterested eyebrow in her direction; as though asking, 'what the hell are you looking at?' She looked away and continued to make her way down the bar to an empty stool. Clearly, they weren't each other's type. Settling down on her chosen perch, she'd grunt as the vampire bartender, the ungodly pale Asian gentleman was soon before of her at inhuman speed.

"What'll it be, Miss?" He stated formally, and stiffly. Tracie had to school her features from taking her turn at quirking a brow, now. A pleasant smile appeared on her lips instead.

She assumed he wasn't a bartender often; that or he didn't favor the idea of serving drinks to a human… He even wore a nametag though which read, 'Chow' as she'd state politely with a nervous energy, "An Old Fashioned, please. Ah- o-on the rocks!" He'd give a pause, eyeballing her warily, and then give a stiff nod, then turn away to go make it.

She just hoped the picture she was trying to deliver was one that sold easily. Tracie hadn't been in this bar particularly, before, but the act had been in Dallas, Chicago, Columbus, Denver, and a variety of other cities over the year, and she'd plenty of practice to deliver it solidly. Looking over her shoulder, she'd eyeball the rest of the floor thoughtfully, and then look back ahead just as the glass landed. Giving a shy giggle, she'd pay upfront in cash, tip included, and take her drink quickly to sip at the small straw sticking out of it. She quickly cleared away as though the man made her nervous.

She honestly never felt more at home though. Her eyes stared up through thick, black mascara covered lashes, painstakingly done to look as though it had been a little bit well, overdone. Enthusiastic but inexperienced, and it made her eyes pop if anything, and she thought doubled into making her look absolutely unattractive.

Too bad for Blondie over there, she'd eye the tour guide hungrily once more as his back was to her and he seemed to be watching his tour group, his hands on his hips. He should have had a whistle and a baseball cap.

 _He looks like he could teach gym, alright._ She'd mutter internally before she'd look back to the current crowd. Black latex, spandex, and leather were the common themes of the less modest, and black the preferred color of choice for those that were just visiting. It reminded her of a music video for a movie like 'The Crow,' or in this case, 'Queen of the Damned.' The protagonist had been a rock star vampire after all- with tight leather pants if she remembered right. Brows shot up as she stopped her walking and looked to the dancing woman who's fangs were out though, gesturing with hands to guests in a 'come hither' motion her body moving hypnotically and in turn, Tracie noticed at different speeds. Her own pink tongue darted out to wet her black lips before taking a shy drink of her Old Fashioned from the straw. Soon she diverted her eyes and moved off towards the tourist swag stand. That was definitely a vampire, no question. But, Laurie would want a t-shirt at the very least to show some sort of progress for the night's scoping, or at the most, the story to go along with it.

There were a multitude of options, the stereotypical t-shirt, and then of course the more… exotic kind. Among them was odd black lingerie with white acrylic fangs hanging off in the places of the groin and breasts, and hell even black and red nipple tassels. To her amusement though, she found a tie-off crimson and black flannel with the bar's name written in bright red on the breast pocket, meant to show the stomach. It cost a pretty penny, but the main reason she chose it was because she could already imagine her partner's scrunched nose and scowl at the suggestion of a belly shirt; making it worth it.

Bag in hand with her new purchase once the cash was exchanged with a woman who had fake vampire fangs in her mouth, judging by her tan and the way the vein in her neck pulsed, Tracie soon took her place amongst a human group awkwardly moving about- as though attempting to dance but never quite having figured out the steps. She happily took to a fumbling two-step of an unpracticed newcomer. So far, so good, as it appeared she was going to be left alone for the evening.

Though with the swish of the bag of her new purchase against her hip, her focus was pulled back to her partner as she moved without concentration and thought. Glazed eyes barely focused on those who seemed to be in the 'same' predicament, single and without a vampire courter.

She bumped hips though soon with someone drawing her attention back to reality. The bouncer vampire from earlier, locked gazes onto her and stared expressionlessly. Tracie froze and her chin tucked submissively as she quickly shuffled backwards, "S-sorry." She'd murmur softly, barely audible over the music. The vampire's fangs came out, and the woman tipped her chin back predatorily.

"Watch where you're going, sweetheart." She'd purr, "I told you to stay out of trouble, after all." She'd then turn on her fine stiletto pumps and March away.

Tracie refrained from a sigh of relief, hastily looking around before isolating herself to a corner table, scared now to rejoin the fray. Internally, she was relieved she now had a good excuse to keep to a corner and eyeball the crowd, as though agitated and nervous about rejoining the fray. Hopefully, this transition would go without incident.

Sipping her Old Fashioned, she'd take the time to now commit faces to memory, human and vampire alike. The blonde Forbes Model in the throne was noted to occasionally scan buxom women or oddly attractive, muscled men. Tracie attempted not to stare too long, as to try and not draw attention to her. She determined quickly by the way others looked at him though, or by the way he remained nearly invisible in plain sight, that he had the most power in the room. Humans, both men and women approached him and were promptly dissuaded. Sometimes violently or other times gently. There was then bouncer she noted, the curvy vampire who moved to perch at his side. She required very little explanation, she was confident, powerful, and in control. Tracie stored away that she, much like the blonde, was appropriately dangerous. She moved quickly on, the fellow brunette very pretty and in joining him, making them quite the stunning pair. There was also thin vampire, female, with short bobbed cut brown hair and black latex from head to foot. She wore knee high stilettos and looked a bit too enthusiastic for the fake S&M look.

Tracie wasn't sure of her role, but she seemed to keep fairly to herself… looking from human to human in silent though. Then, there was Chow of course, the bartender. His fangs showed at one point to a rather demanding man, who was easily cowed and fled. Amongst the vampires, these were the four that stuck out. The others who kept to themselves and didn't seem to draw any attention- either because they were with a human already or deciding who to approach, were filed away in her mind, but otherwise given less focus.

Then, there was the staff. Two were of significant note, both barmaids. One with curly blonde hair and fang marks over her collar and throat, had a nametag which read, 'Ginger.' A second woman, curvy, older, and with graying hair, but, equally decked out with fang marks, was named 'Belinda.' There were a few men that also worked the area, collecting bottles or charming the human tourists, but other than that, it seemed this was an upstanding business. Signs on the wall indicating biting and hunting was not permitted to any capacity on the premises, and Tru Blood was to be the only available drink for the vampire patrons.

That didn't stop humans from leaving with them, though. She watched as the skinny vampire with a bob cut walked out with a rather eager girl after she approached the man in the chair, the Forbes Model, and was promptly turned down. 'I'm Tarin,' going through the air in introduction from the vampire as she linked arms with the girl with ease, "Would you like to my friend?" and began to escort her way. The act reminded Tracie of scavengers. Like Hyenas after a Lion made a kill. As they exited out the front door, she felt a nervous twinge move up her spine.

 _Aw hell naw…_ She'd shut her eyes and pretend like she didn't see anything. Her gut giving her 'the warning.' That instinct that said things may as well have just gone tits up. But to go half-cocked, was truly the quickest way to get killed. Observing was the way of survival. Though, she noted something as she looked over her drink after draining the rest of it, foregoing the straw. She wasn't the only one who had noticed it. The blonde tour guide was watching as well, a surly frown on his lips. It was then she recalled the girl that just left had one of the tour group shirts on. _Double-aw hell naw._ She inhaled deeply and shut her eyes. The guy remained locked on the doors, but made no move to follow. Not her problem. Not her problem, at all. Laurie's voice popped up in her mind from their earlier conversation.

" _Would you be able to stand by if you found a vampire murdering someone, as those in the nest are wont to do?"_

 _Just shut up, Laurie, I'm Working..._ Were it anywhere else, Tracie'd be happy to move outside to go out and see if a staking was to be needed. The clean up would be a right pain in the ass, but the world would be less one more bloodthirsty vampire. Enough years in the field though told her that setting was everything, and this wasn't the time nor the place. She found it odd though when the Tour Guide made no move to follow them out, probably for the best. If the girl died…

 _And you did nothing…_ Her blood ran hot at the thought and Tracie moved from her perch and back towards the bar. There was nothing like alcohol to numb the intent to act. Setting the empty glass down, Chow would look up and lock a stare on her as she'd keep her gaze down on the black lipstick stained glass.

"…May I have another Old Fashioned, please?" She'd state now, just the tinge of the earlier act on her lips before blue eyes would look back up to him. The wind taken out of her sails, perhaps the night was not going the way she planned.

The vampire nodded and took the glass. Turning to make her another Old Fashioned, she'd put down more money and the tip as she waited. Her eyes firmly on the back of his head, she'd observe now as Chow turned back around, having made the drink at inhuman speed. Setting it down before her, he'd lean forward into her space and state simply, if not calmly, "If you are hoping to find a partner for the night, you should probably try and be more confident; or just leave. This world may not be for you." Tracie leaned back, startled from the proximity of the vampire. She gave a gulp.

 _You know, it's more of an occupational necessity than a lifestyle choice._ Though that gave her an idea… and not a very good one at that.. She'd smile genuinely and wince. A nod following.

"I'm… not quite ready to leave it, yet." She'd admit bashfully, "But, I figure it never hurts to try out new things, and this is definitely… _definitely_ a new thing." Chow set both hands on the bar and his gaze bore down on her as he though he was considering her words, before then gracing her with a nod.

"Well. Money is money, and the dark is the dark. But, if you stick around it long enough, you never know where you'll get off too. Or what will spring on you when you're not paying attention." The warning in his voice was well received and Tracie gave another gulp, and her head bobbed in confirmation.

"Understood, Sir." He'd give another nod, then go back about his business with attending other patrons. As she picked up her drink and moved back to her corner, she paused as Tarin and the little fang groupie came back in. Curious. She didn't expect them to make an appearance at all. The girl looked dazed with a wide, blissful smile on her lips. There were no fang marks on her, but Tracie assumed they were likely already healed up. Something wasn't quite right though as the two headed back towards the ladies room. There was an odd smile on Tarin's face, like a thrill was being experienced of a secret kind that only she was privy too.

Tracie refrained from following them with her head as they stayed in the peripheral of her vision. The guide, not so much, he was watching after them. Tracie made eye contact with him again, an odd thrill passing through her as they stared the other down. Well… Chow said be more confident, who was she to deny an old timer's advice? This time, she raised her glass to him with a crooked smirk, before knocking it back.

He grimaced, rolled his eyes, and then went back towards watching the rest of his group. _Aww well, his loss._ So much for Laurie's dream coming true. At least Tracie could report back that she tried. As she settled into her position of observing at that point sauntered by and the barmaid took her glass. Tracie remained neutral as the barmaid leaned in, smiling dreamily. "Hey sugar, anything else for you?" She'd ask, the heavy southern lilt drawing Tracie's attention to lock onto her thoughtfully.

"Ah… water please, if you don't mind." Tracie'd ask, a bit of her own southern lilt leaking in. "Oh- and… what's his name?" She'd nod to the Forbes Model, and a coy smile would appear on Ginger's lips. He, thankfully, did not look over.

"Why, that's Eric, he's the owner. The woman beside him is Pam, and then you already likely know Chow behind the bar. They're all very nice, if not a little bit scary, at first. They run the place." Ginger's marks on her body showed just how nice they _could_ be. With how comfortable the fang banger was, Tracie had no doubt that the woman viewed her position as though she were in 7th Heaven. Though, the Hunter couldn't deny that there was something… off about the woman, Something in her eyes that didn't seem quite alert, or like she wasn't running on all solid gears.

 _Glamour?_ Tracie speculated, before looking away as Ginger left her be, subject dropped, to go get her a glass of water. Tracie took that moment to note that she wasn't firing on all cylinders herself now; a nice buzz had set in as she relaxed back into her chair. For a bit, she forgot about the two women in the bathroom, and the world settled to a lulling calm of dancing vampires and humans, industrial music, and odd individuals coming and going. A few gothic humans even crowded her table and she struck up an idle conversation with them, the focus naturally being the undead that surrounded them.

" _They're gorgeous, if only I could get one of them to notice me…"_

" _I wonder if they'll want me natural all over, or maybe they don't care. Either way, I've heard sex with a vampire is some of the best you'll ever have."_

" _And the owner, god, I wish he would just take me…"_

 _Seeeex, sex, sex, sex, sex._ Tracie thought to the same cadence of a chicken bawking while she looked to her temporary tablemates. It was the main appeal of most fang bangers though, sex and well, being bit.

Tracie had been bit before- and she could testify; as a Hunter, there was usually nothing pleasant about it. But, rather than out herself, she just idly egged on the conversation and otherwise kept her mouth shut. Ginger returned with her water, seemingly pleased others had joined her. She gave Tracie a secretive smile as though they were girlfriends sharing a private joke. Tracie gave her a small, shy one, hiding the fact she had no idea what the fuck the woman was trying to communicate.

Soon however, something felt off, and she looked down as Ginger left. The glass of water before her had lemon within the center of it for flavor. Adding a sugar packet to it, she idly stirred it with the straw inside before taking a long drink of it. Past the heads of her newfound friends, (none of which she would remember the names of in the morning), she could see the crowds moving a bit more unnaturally. An influx of vampires had come in as the night was moving on and the humans seemed a bit more intrigued, and all too much more willing to cooperate… She got to her feet and felt the buzz receding from not being fed a steady source of alcohol. Her friends disbursed to go intermingle with the new guests; and she took that as her sign it was time to hit the john, and perhaps call it a night. There were more faces to observe however, and as she made her way, she took in their unnatural visages, tried to commit them to memory, and headed for the bathroom.

Formerly having forgotten about Tarin and the woman she took off with, she reached the restroom and stilled as moaning was the first thing to hit her ears from behind the door. Her eyes turned quietly to the floor. A frown donned her features as she saw the telltale hint of red at the doorstop. Rather than use the restroom at all, she turned around and left - leaving it and the door undisturbed.

 _Now what?_ She'd stumble over her thoughts and shut her eyes, focusing past the alcohol haze hadn't quite finished dying down. She rubbed at her eyelids and in turn eye shadow, ruining the makeup and staining her fingers. Walking heavily away and with a grim frown, she'd quickly put the plan together. It wouldn't do to walk right up to Mr. Eric and go, 'hey buddy, there's a vampire suckin' a tourist in your bathroom, your signs say that's against the rules…' Attention was not to be drawn to herself… thus, the question of who was it she needed to speak too, and how to do it without it being her became the focus of her mind.

As she exited the hallway that led to the bathrooms and entered back into the main dance floor, she took a moment to look at the bar. A mistake, she realized, as she made eye contact with Chow. Giving the Asian vampire another shy smile and nod, she found it pleasantly returned. His predatory gaze though never leaving her, and she assumed because she hadn't stopped staring. She was quickly cowed away continuing as his gaze remained hungry. She found her suspicion well founded though as he broke his gaze and looked back to the bar patrons, determining her probably not worth the time. At least, she assumed. She took her leave. Hopefully giving the depiction of a fangbanger attempt failed, eye tag lost, and a potential courter of the night, dissuaded.

She thought she could feel his eyes on the back of her the whole time she left before the doors shut behind her and Shreveport's hot, humid night air hit her from the icebox that was the bar. Surely, she reasoned, he hadn't, and it had just been an age-old paranoia spike. Nonetheless though, she checked an old black razor flip-phone, for the time.

 _Shoot, it's nearly 3 AM._

With an odd giggle and shake of her head, she couldn't believe how the time had flown as she made it back to the 4Runner and slipped inside. Laurie's belly shirt gift bag tossed on the passenger seat while she shut and locked the door behind her.

Unsteady hands put her keys in the ignition and turned the car on, she pulled out of the parking lot smoothly and departed, rather sobered up now and with a destination in mind. For about five minutes, she drove on roads that curved and wound, moving uphill and higher before Tracie let out a low breath as she pulled up to a scenic overlook on the freeway that gave a good vantage point of the city. From here, she could see not only the vampire bar, but also her own house in the day if she wanted.

With lights off so it wouldn't be spotted on top of the hill as she put it in park, it was here she sent a text from her phone, and waited. Her phone 'dinged' with a response about a minute later:

 **The Rabbit:**

' _ **Message Delivered and Tape Altered.'**_

Snapping the phone shut, she looked down the hill expectantly.

For a few moments, the bar looked undisturbed- then, the doors burst open. People were quickly being ushered out and sent away, some moving near mechanically, possibly under the influence of glamour or with some other form of motivation. It was… too organized to be natural. Nonetheless though, vampires and human staff alike were outside, identifiable only by the brief shapes and colors of their uniforms under the outdoor lamppost lights. Some were guiding individuals to their cars, or to the giant tour bus that had been there originally. From as high as she was, she couldn't necessarily pick out individuals, only that some were moving a bit too quickly to be normal.

Satisfied, she quietly put the vehicle in reverse and rolled back the car to the road before she pulled back onto the highway. She drove with the radio off and with an occasional look to the rear view or side mirrors, feeling somewhat satisfied; at least to the degree she could be. There was more to patrol, scoping, and being a hunter after all, than just staking vampires.

But as she reached her home and pulled into the driveway, Tracie Adams hoe was that this this would be a one-and-done kind of endeavor.

The last thing she needed after all was the attention of a vampire that wanted to know who cried 'wolf' after said wolf was found in his field, eating his sheep.

* * *

When the phone call came in, Eric Northman, Vampire Sheriff of Area Five, had not suspected it's true nature. He had thought nothing at all of the telephone ringing, actually, as it was a rather active night. If he had to speculate over its' nature, he would have guessed it was likely some overeager tourist asking for the hours of Fangtasia. They could after all, be a tad confusing for humans given they catered to a vampire's waking time; even if the main audience were the tourists, themselves. All things considered, the night had been going rather well. The faint smell of blood was in the air, and it was fresh; but, when you had willing victims to vampires, and the vampires themselves coming and going, what else could be expected? As long as they weren't on his property and hunting, where was the harm?

What he did not like though, was when Chow, his current business partner along with his progeny Pam, and the choice replacement for his long deceased former partner, Longshadow, came to inform him of what said phone call was about.

The blonde vampire, while content, had been looking for an exciting partner to perhaps take downstairs. But, with one sentence from Chow and he found his though thrown out the window and his undead blood almost instantly to boiling point…

" _Tarin is feeding in the women's bathroom on a guest, again."_ Last time this had happened, a police raid he'd barely escaped also occurred, and the vampire in question had gone months without her fangs, the clean up a right pain in the ass. Now however… He turned silently to give Chow a deadpan stare. The Asian vampire looked none to pleased about it himself; public feedings were bad for _all_ their business. "An anonymous tip just delivered it. I checked to confirm, the women's is locked and there's blood on the doorsill." An anonymous tip…

With a breath, and with some stifled fury, Eric gave a simple order, "…Clear the building." Chow gave him a confirming nod before moments later an alarm went off.

Eric relocated himself to the women's bathroom door in a flash, holding it shut to ensure there was to be no escape.

It had taken very little to usher the current group out. The bar had been equipped with a fake fire alarm shortly after a similar incident to this. Its intention being a means for quick evacuation of the building without notifying the actual fire department, or raising alarms. While definitely against a code or two, it didn't take but a glamour to a city official here or there to make any potential problems go away. So while it went off and people were immediately escorted out by Pam and Chow, the patrons were informed the bar was closing early due to an unforeseeable hazard, and would hopefully open the next evening on time and schedule. Apologetic vouchers were handed out for an invite back, and while Eric didn't enjoy the idea of losing money, he favored losing customers and having another raid come down on him even less. Thus, it was a necessary loss to encourage later spending.

They'd probably get some irritating twitter posts from this; but nothing a little crowd control or honest, good PR couldn't fix. The problem would take care of itself.

As the last individual left though, he wasted no time yanking the door open, and scowling down immediately at the female vampire whose mouth was blood covered. A nearly drained woman, he recognized her as a tourist, beside her. "Again?" He hissed, enraged. Tarin hissed back and snarled as he'd reach up and grasped her by the throat, throwing her behind him and against the wall, before he looked down to the dazed, human woman.

A Swedish curse exited him, before he'd murmur lowly, "Pam." And just like that, the longhaired brunette with plump lips and lovely curves, his beloved progeny, appeared in the room beside him.

Clearly looking about the room, and then lifting her heel in irritation to the blood that now coated the bottom of it, she looked him dead in the eye in question and said agitation, "You must be joking…" Her eyes turned towards Tarin, "The Magister took your fangs last time and you still haven't learned?" Tarin's retort was another growling hiss as she was separated from her prey, shakily pushing herself up from the blood slickened tile floor.

Eric's bright blue eyes flicked to the human though hanging on by a thread, "Take care of the girl." And that was all that was need for Pam to move forward and collect the young woman up.

"Come on darling, we're going to make sure you remember what a wonderful night you've had." She'd purr. As she left with the woman, Eric would turn back towards the angry vampire. He could not say such a pleasant evening would be in store for her.

A pink tongue came out to wet his pale lips as he'd murmur while grabbing her by the back of the head with inhuman strength and fisting her hair, "This is twice now you have caused offense to me." Breathing in deeply, he'd continue softly, "I would have thought the first lesson with the Magister was enough; but it appears a more solid sentencing will be necessary."

"Sh-Sheriff please, I- I couldn't help myself." She'd start, "They're just… so temping… and this is such a good place too-," but Eric would have none of it. Jerking her head back, he watched as a pained gasp ushered from her while he pulled her by her hair to stand.

Authoritatively, the Sheriff would hiss, "Perhaps silver, a coffin, and being without your fangs for a few years will do the trick." A whimper left her and he began to march her out of the bathroom. He would have to make an appointment for her sentencing, but he knew a place he could keep her locked up without issue until then. Staking her after all, would only infuriate the powers that be and land him in even more serious trouble than Tarin, herself, was in now.

Thus, with inhuman speed, he ushered her down into the depths of the Fangtasia basement for 'safe keeping.' Once she was secured and locked in an abandoned coffin, he soon arrived back up on the main floor.

He shut the door behind him as he ignored Tarin's screams from down below, and instead, listened to the complaining from one of his staff, Ginger. She had been assigned by Chow by the sounds of it to clean up the mess that Tarin had made. Rather than become irritated though, he left her be. Ginger knew how to keep her mouth shut, and though she was capable of being dumber than a box of rocks, she was loyal.

While she cleaned, he vacated himself to a hidden away backroom, his office. There, he made a couple of phone calls regarding the vampire now captured down below. Pam and Chow entered and shut the door behind them as he hung up the phone from his second call. Leaning back in his chair, a leather 'boss chair' with a long back that fit his rather tall and broad form comfortably, the vampire muttered, "I've asked one of our humans to see if they can trace the call, but did either of you see anything strange tonight?"

"No, just the usual blood bags and tourists, had a few newbies," Pam murmured thoughtfully, frowning, while Chow equally shook his head. The three sat in pensive silence.

Chow finally let out an unnecessary breath, vampires after all, did not need to breathe, "We did have an influx of guests as the night went on, but none of the newer faces we _did_ have, seemed to stick out. We should run through those that visited tonight and maybe with the trace we can see who called it in. The voice over the phone used a scrambler."

Eric gave an irritated hum but a satisfactory nod, "Check the tapes in the main lobby and the dance floor, perhaps we can find out who our helpful fly on the wall was tonight."

"And if we find them?" Pam inquired now. She crossed her arms and jutted her hip to the side.

Eric smirked at that, "Well, I imagine we need to ask them why they went as far as calling it in, as opposed to simply telling us, directly. Maybe even thank them for being such a… _good,_ Samaritan." Pam gave a mirroring smirk and Chow looked utterly amused at the idea. Eric followed that by giving a simple shrug, "And, if they didn't call the police, then perhaps they have an insight to vampire affairs."

"Are you thinking a drifter or a newcomer in our ranks?" Chow asked as he settled in his stance and put his hands in his pockets. Eric gave another idle shrug.

"Someone who knew better than to call the police and make a mess." He state simply, then pause and eyeball Chow, "Also, Chow, lose the vest." The Asian was a little pudgy in the stomach, and while the tattoos were lovely and on display, Eric didn't feel the vest was working for the typically, businessman like Yakuza. "Just try a white collared shirt with rolled up sleeves and a belt in the future." Pam gave a soft snort and shook her head. Chow simply nodded, not particularly giving a damn one way or another.

* * *

 **A/N:** The game is afoot! I hope you've enjoyed the use of Ginger and Belinda in this chapter. I've incorporated some of the novel's elements as well as the show's as I feel it helps a bit more with the full idea of Fangtasia. But you've read, so please let me know what you think! I'll see you next chapter where we jump back to Tracie, and the story advances a bit.


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